


The Labyrinth

by diningwithpsychopaths



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wendigo!Hannibal - Freeform, fairytale AU, it's kind of southern gothic, mythology AU, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diningwithpsychopaths/pseuds/diningwithpsychopaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is forced to create the magical core for a labyrinth that will house the city's most notorious beast: Hannibal Lecter. </p><p>This is for the Hannigram Holiday Exchange 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Labyrinth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pigwingstoheaven](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pigwingstoheaven).



The bell above Will’s shop entrance jangled, and a cold breeze rushed inside, interrupting his concentration on the engine his was fixing. He didn’t look up, though, the customer might just be here to browse, and there was no reason to waste time with pleasantries if they’re just window shopping. A broad shadow feel over him, and he sighed.

“Yes?” he asked, looking up. His features hardened. Looming over him was Sheriff Jack Crawford, an imposing man built of muscled fat and dark skin, freckled from too much sun from being outside catching killers. Will’s own freckles had long since faded. “Hi, Jack,” Will said with a cold smile.

“Still fixing engines, then?” Jack said. Will snorted and set the engine down. “Not much thought needed for engines.”

“Why are you here?” Will asked. Jack might want to ease into whatever horrible thing he’d come to ask, but Will wasn’t having it. The sooner he could reject Jack, the sooner he could get back to work. 

“I need you,” Jack said. He’s bent his face down to catch Will’s eye, but if Will allowed Jack eye-contact is would be harder to say no. 

“I’m not interested in catching your criminals anymore,” Will said. It had been three years since Will walked away from working with the sheriff’s department, and he had no intention of returning. He was lucky to be sane enough to leave in the first place, and even then he didn’t come away unscathed. The long smile scar across his abdomen was his daily reminder of how lucky he was to still be alive.

“I don’t need you to catch one,” Jack said. He leaned in a bit closer, but Will held his ground.

“Got some markings you need me to decipher?” Will asked, his tone bitter. Jack gave him an unamused look for the comment, and Will turned his back to fidget with his tools on the workbench behind him. When Will began to work for Jack it was just consulting the odd case that included demon summons, and even then it was only for deciphering the markings used to summon the beasts; no fieldwork. No one else in town knew as much as Will Graham about demons and black magic, and that gained him a reputation that brought him to Sheriff Jack Crawford. However it wasn’t the nasty rumors about him being a devil worshiper that brought the Sheriff knocking at his door, but a gruesome case that included the flesh of the suspect having been ripped off and demonic symbols draw around the bones with the body’s viscera. Simple symbol consulting escalated, though, when Will proved so effective in catching killers and sending back the demons. From then on, Will was taken to all of the crime scenes. 

“It’s Lecter,” Jack said.

Will’s body tensed. Hannibal Lecter was no ordinary killer. Christened “the Ripper” by the newspaper for way the victims were clawed opened, he did not summon demons, but the way his victims were opened up and displayed, morbidly beautiful impossible tableaus created as if sacrifices made to Lucifer himself, could not have been human. He was also once Will’s friend, though mere friendship didn’t quite reflect how intimate they truly were, but in this town no one needed to know that. Three years ago Hannibal murdered his last victim, and Will was the one to figure it out.

“You already have him, or did you let him escape?” Will asked, an edge of anxiety on his tongue. If Hannibal was out he would be coming for Will. He knew they couldn’t keep him forever, he was too clever to be kept caged by mere men, and Will have relented to putting together the necessary talisman and chants needed to keep the beast that was Hannibal Lecter locked up rather than let some academic with rudimentary casting skills.

“He’s still locked up,” Jack reassured him. Will’s breath flooded his lungs, and he almost choked from the relief. 

“Then I can’t help you,” he repeated.

“I need you to build me a new cage for him?”

“What’s wrong with the county jail?”

“Have you been reading the newspapers lately?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“Lecter has been helping us catch killers and their demons.”

Will’s mouth dropped open, rage acidic on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. Pissing off Jack wouldn’t do him any good.

“And how’s that working out for you?” Will asked scathingly.

“I can’t complain.”

Will took a deep breath. How could Jack be so reckless? Hannibal didn’t deserve to be helping them catch killers. He needed to be rotting in a jail cell, spells so tight they choked out the darkness that he willingly accepted into his heart and veins.

“Takes one to catch one,” Will grumbles.

“You left me no choice,” Jack said. “Leaving like you did. I still needed you out there.”

“Well I can’t catch anyone anymore,” Will snapped. “Hannibal was my last one.”

“Then I need you to finish the job.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve got Bloom or Heimlich for this kind of stuff now. They probably know the symbols and spells better than I do, given all their research.”

“No one knows Lecter the way you do,” Jack argued.

He had a point, but Will didn’t want to hear it. If he got close to Hannibal again he won’t survive. Last time he’d been lucky, but if you captured a devil once and then you let go, there would be no second time. 

“What exactly are you wanting?” Will asked. He knew Jack wasn’t going to back down anytime soon, and if it’s just revamping the spells binding Hannibal he can demand that Hannibal be kept away until he finished.

“I need you to help build me a labyrinth.” 

Will balked, but Jack’s expression was dead serious. “What the hell do you need a labyrinth for?”

“Mayor Verger is going to put Lecter in the center?” Jack explained. 

“And why would he do that?”

“He’s going to feed them to him,” Jack said. His tone is steely, and Will knows that he doesn’t like it, but how could he disobey the desires of the Mayor. Mayor Mason Verger was as fucked up as they come, and putting Hannibal Lecter in a labyrinth sounded just like his unnecessary brand of garish crazy.

“By them, I assume you mean criminals,” Will said. 

“Mayor Verger thinks it’ll be more exciting than the noose.”

Will gave a wry grin. “Not enough screaming and viscera in the latter.”

“Will,” Jack warned, but Will shrugged and leaned back down to focus his attention on the engine he was working on before.

“I’m a mechanic, Jack, or at the very least a slipshod witch. I can’t build a maze.”

“I know, the blueprints are already done. I need you design the spells and symbols to keep Lecter in.”

“And add to the atmosphere, I suppose,” Will said. He knows Jack’s giving him a hard look, but Will doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to be a part of whatever sick entertainment Verger wants. It’s bad enough that they kept Hannibal alive, but to willingly feed the beast is insanity.

“Will,” Jack began, a note of desperation creeping into his tone. “I’m asking as your friend.”

Will chuckled darkly. He won’t be able to back out of this. There was a good chance that even if he did manage to get Jack to leave Verger would send less than cordial encouragement next time. 

“I don’t want Hannibal around when I’m making it,” Will said. He refused to look up, but Jack gave a sigh of relief and clamps Will on the back. Will shrugged him off.

“You won’t have to go anywhere near him.”

“I’m serious, Jack. I can’t have him in my head again,” Will warned.

“You have my word,” Jack reassured him. “I’ll send Katz over with the blueprints for the labyrinth tomorrow so you have a spatial concept to work with.”

“Where are you building it?”

“Behind the Verger manor,” Jack said. “Right at the edge of the woods. You’ll need to before construction; they start next week.”

“Not that much time to cast a protective circle over what I’m guessing is a whole lot of land.”’

“You’re also welcome to cast anything and put up any symbols during the construction.”

“Do they know I’ll be there with a bucket of blood and bones?” Will asked.

“No one is going to mess with you.”

“I can handle myself,” Will said. “I am the one who caught the big bad wendigo after all.”

Jack didn’t laugh, but he rarely does. “Katz will accompany you.”

Will waved Jack off. He didn’t need to hear anymore. Jack had whistled, and Will had answered the call as good dogs do. When Jack closed the door the temperature dropped, and Will kept his eyes on the engine on his worktable. He knew it was Abigail, her soul had followed him since Hannibal killed her in front of Will. Her death had been Hannibal’s response to Will’s rejection, and what gave Will the courage to take Hannibal down. Will wasn’t surprised that Abigail appeared now that Will would be near Hannibal again. Sometimes he wondered if she appeared to Hannibal, too, but doubted it. Will knew that he’s the one she blamed, not Hannibal. Will was the one who rejected Hannibal, and therefore was responsible for destroying their family. Her blood was on his hands. He ignored her today, though. He wasn’t going to let this job drag him back to Hannibal. He had Jack’s word that Will wouldn’t have to see Hannibal because if he was required to delve back into the waiting folds of Hannibal’s psyche one more time, it would be equivalent to opening his abdomen wound and letting Hannibal gorge till all of him lay in the belly of the beast. 

~

It took Will only two days to get out to the field to establish the protective circle that wound bind Hannibal to the ground. The first day he poured over the blueprints for the labyrinth, which was surprisingly not that large. Given Mayor Verger’s ostentatious tastes, Will had expected the maze to be enormous, perhaps ten miles wide, though what it lacked in size it made up for in twists and turns. Will almost found himself concerned that the criminals wouldn’t even make it to the center where Hannibal would be waiting for them. Not that Hannibal would have to stay in the center and wait, but he would definitely be cooking his victims there. Verger had truly made a deal with the devil, and was planning on furnishing the pit of this hell lavishly. The design for the center included a cottage with an irrigation channel running beneath the maze, and even space for a tiny herb garden. It was ridiculous. Hannibal didn’t deserve this, but that was a moot point now. 

The day after Will had familiarized himself with the blueprints he went out to the field itself to get a feel for the land. He would need a lot of chalk dust for this, and more than just simple representation of the elements. This was going to need to be personal in order to contain Hannibal, but that wasn’t improbable. Will still had the mementos of their past, and he knows Mayor Verger purchased a lot of the evidence from the trial, the sick fuck. After surveying the land, Will made a request with Jack to get the knife that was used to kill Abigail as well as the shirt Hannibal had worn that night. Will is confident that Verger is screwed up enough to have not washed it, but even if he had and the mixed blood of Will, Hannibal, and Abigail was bleached out, their energies would still be clinging to the shirt.

The morning before construction rose with a stillness, and the shadow of Abigail near his bedroom window. It was the dingy sunlight spilling into his room that woke him, and when he squinted at the window he saw her thin shadow beside the curtains as though she was enjoying the sunrise. She was joined by Winston, but it didn’t take long for the dog to notice that Will was awake.

Breakfast was strong coffee and stale toast with too much butter and runny eggs. Will sat at his table longer than needed, bracing himself for what was to come. He couldn’t put this off, though, construction would begin tomorrow and the entire thing would be pointless if he didn’t establish the protective circle. Will looked down at Winston who was sprawled on the kitchen floor, and his eyes trained on the uneaten bit of crust on Will’s plate.

“Can’t delay it any longer,” Will murmured with a bitter grin. For three years he had, for the most part, been able to keep the thoughts of Hannibal and their life locked in the dark corridors of the mind palace they shared. There Will never ventured, but in order to be able to create a protective circle strong enough to keep Hannibal in the labyrinth for an indefinite amount of time, Will was going to need to get the old scent back.

He tossed the rest of his toast to Winston and went up to his tiny attic which was really little more than a small scrawl space for forgotten junk and unwanted memories. The box Will wanted was right beside the hatch, as though waiting for him. A 7’ by 5’ wood box with a golden lock that, despite being in the musty darkness for three years, was still pristine as the day Hannibal gave it to him. Along the sides of the box were carvings depicting the grotesque waking and heart eating scene at the end of Dante’s La Vita Nuova poem. Hannibal had brought it with him from the old world, and insisted Will have it. He had presented it with random debris, bits of bone and hair, bark and shell for Will to use in when crafting lures for his fishing lines. Now it contained letters and a charm bag Will had created for Hannibal with bits of his hair and ashes from the fire they first made love in front of. It had been a ridiculous thing to make then, but it had made Hannibal too happy to receive it even if he never did put it under his pillow. Which made sense now, it must have hurt Hannibal to have even taken it. At least now it could finally be put to some use.

Will shut the hatch and brought the box back to the table. He wasn’t going to reminisce. It was a ten minute walk to the police station, and he needed to pick up the other two items before he could go to the field. From the box he takes the charm bag and a photo Verger had given to Will out of malicious sympathy. It was taken just after Hannibal had been incarcerated, and in it Hannibal wore his true mien of the wendigo. The black skeletal face was Hannibal’s, and he was poised with confidence as though posing for a picture in a ballroom. The entirety of his antlers didn’t even fit in the frame, he was so large. Even through this bit of film, Will could feel the evil that radiated off of the beast. Will put both items in his satchel, and then grabbed the chalk he’d charmed last night.

Jack wished him good luck with a warning look that would have made lesser men cringe, however Will just gave him a sarcastic half grin and followed Beverly out of the station.

The area where the labyrinth would go had been cleared; a perfect circle a mile in diameter of pale brown earth that would need more than a few spells to coax anything but resilient weeds to grow from it. Surrounding the circle was the sun-bleached grass of the field, drooping in the humidity of the day. With summer coming to a close, the heat had been particularly brutal the past few days, and today was no exception even with the overcast sky above. The field rested between the Verger Estate and the woods where the pines whispered in the muggy stillness of the day. Will ignored the trees, though, and set to work.

Dust clung to him as he laid down the white chalk for the protective circle. Sneezing was a problem, and a few times he had to redo some lines. Behind him Beverly hummed a drinking tune. He knew she’d rather chat, but he needed all of his concentration on the circle, and channeling his magic to keep the chalk in place. It wasn’t enough to simply lay it down. He chanted spells of binding and capture as he worked, calling upon the guardians of the land to allow the circle to imbue itself with the land permanently. He asked for tenacity and resilience for the circle so that it may contain the evil that it was created for. When the circle was drawn, Will took out the items that would be placed in the four corners. The photo that contained Hannibal’s dark energy to represent the evil that would be contained. The knife on which Abigail’s essence still clung; a sacrifice of innocence. The charm bag to represent Will’s magic and proof of his capability to ensnare the evil, and finally the bloody shirt which melded all three of them together. 

With all of the items placed Will walked back to Beverly.

“I need you to leave,” he said.

“Shy?” she joked while brushing the dust and grass debris that club to her pants while she had sat.

“I should be done in an hour at most.”

“You sure you don’t need moral support?” Beverly asked.

“Just keep any mobs away,” Will joked. Beverly doesn’t laugh, but Will hadn’t expected her too. Will still receive threats and taunts by the citizens, led by the pastors of the evangelical Church. His kind wasn’t welcomed in their god-fearing little city, but thankfully Jack was smart enough to realize that Will wasn’t a real threat, and kept the witch-hunters at bay.

Will turned back to the circle, and when he felt Beverly’s presence fade from the vicinity, he closed his eyes to submerge himself into the intangible reality of magic. Here he must be careful. Being in this state of mind was addicting, and it was easy to become lost on the paths of energies. It didn’t take long for him to become in tune with the auras of everything around him. From the dying grass to the curious creatures in the forest; Will could feel their breath, the racing activity of their minds and souls. His own body pulsed in his mind, melding with his magic and he focused on the protective circle before him. There he could feel himself and his essence flowing between the particles of chalk in the shape of symbols. He weaved around the items. 

Fear assaulted him as he confronted the knife, but overpowering the terror was the warmth of acceptance. Abigail hadn’t resisted when Hannibal had brought her into his arms as they faced Will. Even as the blade slice open her throat and she gagged, sobbing, she remained willing in his grasp.

The charm bag called to him next. His magic made even more potent over the years, and the bits of Hannibal that were nestled inside sizzled merrily inside. The charm of protection was easily swayed to switch its purpose to becoming one of capture, and swiftly engulfed the remnants of its intended. 

The power that clung to the photograph should have rejected Will, and fought to keep him at bay so that he could not bind its master to the circle. However, Will found his presence embraced by the residue of Hannibal Lecter, and it was like being with him all over again. He could feel Hannibal, as though he were truly there, his essence attempting to swallow Will. When confronting energy like this, it wasn’t just the residue Will faced, and so he must be careful. If he lingered, the living energy of Hannibal could realize Will’s presence, and he might find himself confronted in this state of being by the very beast he wished to capture. Already, Wine laced breath mixed with his, and the familiar courteous yet overbearing presence pressed into Will, coaxing him to submit. Will resisted. If he lost himself in the seduction of this dark power he would not be able to prove that he could contain its master, and all would be lost.  
But would that be so bad, a voice whispered.  
Will needed to finish this. The voice was too similar to Hannibal. A faint tapping sounded at the back of Will’s thoughts. The door to the mind palace. Hannibal knew. The desire to rip free of the energies gripped Will, but he couldn’t abandon the circle. If he did not complete it now, there would be no second time. Will ripped his being away from the photo and barreled right into the blood and energies of the shirt.

There all three of them existed: the sacrifice, the caster, and the beast. Here they were one, melded together and for a moment Will wavered. The sight of all three of their essences combined was alluring, shining a deep red and pulsating with the memory of the night their blood combined as it flowed from the wounds they inflicted on one another. The magic of the circle demanded this moment, and so Will dove in; reliving his adrenaline, his fear and betrayal. The terror and sorrow from Abigail, so poignant it weighed him down, engulfing him in the futility of a dream of happiness, and then there was the scorching love and brutality that was Hannibal. These intents burned into him, but Will moved past the longing to loose himself, and presented all of them to them to bleed into the protection circle. 

Will felt everything seep into the ground as the spell cemented itself until Will was confronted with the dark power of the wendigo. Gone was the love and life of Hannibal, and all that remained was the hunger of the beast. It reached out to Will, but he directed it to the circle where it was sucked deep into the ground. The circle was now ready for Hannibal and the wendigo inside.

With the circle strong and ready, Will removed his presence from the magic contained in the spell. The entire ordeal left him weak, though, and just as he exited the loop of magic a tendril of Hannibal’s darkness clung to him, escaping with him. As soon as they were free Will was engulfed. Briefly he reconnected with reality, but he saw, more than felt, as his body collapse, and his fragile thoughts were pushed back until he was through the doors to the mind palace.

Will could feel nothing. Not his body nor the dry, heated dirt of the field. There was no humid air or dingy light, only blackness. This emptiness was brief, though, and before him a dull light began to glow. Will needed to leave, but the light beckoned him. He would only be here a moment, just while he regained the strength to leave. 

Corridors began to materialize as he moved, and soon he found himself the halls of a cathedral. Will glided past the walls carved out of grey white marble with tapestries and statues of ancient mythos. Hannibal had always been so fond of the aesthetic of the church, and had even adopted its grandiose gilded look in his own home when he was free. Was this Will’s interpretation of Hannibal’s palace as he had heard it described years ago? Perhaps this was his own mind, and it was adopting Hannibal’s aesthetic after having to confront the dark energy for the circle? Will hoped so, but the growing ominous feeling of being watched did not soothe him. Something else was in this place with him.

At the end of the corridor was a room filled with lit candles and before them was Hannibal Lecter. Will did not enter, but he knew his presence was felt. When Hannibal turned around, it was not his human visage he wore, but that of the wendigo. Skin black as starless nights and antlers that could easily slip into Will’s skin. The wendigo looked Will up and down, and then he smiled. Will knew, of course, that Hannibal wasn’t really there, but at the same time the piercing gaze was the same along with that all-knowing almost smile. Will began to hyperventilate and the beast before him began to reach out for him.

Will wanted to run away, but he was rooted to the floor. The dark power of the wendigo had ensnared him, and he would never escape. Hannibal did not touch, him though. His claws stopped short of grazing his throat and the scar at his abdomen, and then he opened his mouth.

Will shot up, sweat clinging to his skin, and he realized that he was no longer in the field and no longer in the mind palace with Hannibal. He was back home, and night had already fallen. Beverly must have found him passed out in the field, and moved him back to his little apartment above his shop. Will willed his breathing to slow and his heart to cease beating so erratically. He was safe now. There would be no other reason to confront Hannibal or his dark essence again. Tomorrow construction would start, and all Will needed to do now was establish more charms and such throughout the maze to keep Hannibal inside and lure the criminals to him. Will lay back down on his sweat stained sheets. There was no reason that he needed to see Hannibal, and once he was inside the labyrinth Will could be free of him, forever. 

~

During the construction of the labyrinth Will joined the crew, entwining spells of confusion and entrapment into the brick walls and ivy planted around them. In the center, where Hannibal would dwell, Will focused the majority of Hannibal’s dark energy, and also established the most precautions against that dark force. As he worked, the builders threw slurs at him, calling him “Satan’s bitch” or “witch spawn,” and asking him if his witch pussy was hungry for cock. However, Beverly accompanied him every day, and that kept the worker’s threats empty words which were easy to ignore. Besides, their close-minded taunts were the last thing on Will’s mind while in the labyrinth. 

As the day of completion grew closer and the days of summer dwindled, Hannibal’s dark energy grew within the dark corridors of the labyrinth. The beast hadn’t even set foot in his new domain yet, but the more Will fortified the maze to be simultaneous prison and lair for Hannibal, the more Will could feel his hungry presence. He could hear the inhale of breath as he wrote sigils in blood upon brick. The pointed tips of the ivy leaves felt like the caress of claws on the back of his neck. Will remained vigilant, though. He never went back into a state of energy to cast any spells and kept his mind shut to the polite tapping at the back of his thoughts where the connection to the mind palace dwelt. He had no defenses while he slept, though.

Perhaps it was the labyrinth, or visions that crept from the cracks of the door to the mind palace, but when Will slept he dreamt of Hannibal. The dreams were vivid, bright red blood that gushed from nameless victim’s bodies, slashed open by claws. Hannibal’s claws. Will’s claws. With the meat still bloody Hannibal would tears slices from the corpses, and place them upon Will’s eager tongue. With each bite Hannibal’s claws lingered more and more against Will’s lips and tongue, until Will was sucking the blood from them. If only Will would wake during the night, but he slept soundly until he woke up to the morning light and an ache permeating his very core. This needed to end, and when all of this was over he would forget all about Hannibal Lecter, once and for all. Perhaps even move out of the city and go West where hopefully superstitious did not rule the hearts of folks. Until then, he would have to be resilient against the seduction of Hannibal’s energy. In all of the years Hannibal was locked up, not once had he appeared to Will so strongly. Of course there had been nightmares, and bittersweet dreams for lost love, but these vision were deeper, more real.  
Hannibal must think that he will see Will again because why else would he be eroding him this way? And it was Hannibal, Will vehemently told himself. He didn’t desire any of this. The thought of eating human flesh made his stomach roil, and the unfortunate side effect of an erection every morning was just his body being confused. Hannibal wove those dreams to be seductive, and his body was weak to them, but his mind would remain strong.

~

The day of the labyrinth’s completion dawned with dirty clouds clogging the sky, and a chill that bit at Will’s nose. Today they would put Hannibal in the labyrinth and everything would be completed. Unfortunately, Will had to be present in order to cast the final binding spell, but Jack promised him that he wouldn’t have to be near or speak with Hannibal. There was little reassurance in that, though. For three years they had been separated, and despite himself Will could feel his heart bulge in his chest with excitement as his fingers shook while buttoning up his shirt. 

The room grew cold as he regarded himself in the mirror and breath began to fog the corner of the mirror. Abigail.

“You want to see him,” she whispered.

He couldn’t lie to her, but he wasn’t going to admit it to himself. He turned from the mirror and hoped his tie wasn’t too crooked.

A knock issued at his door at five in the evening, and Will resigned himself to this one last day. Behind the door was Beverly with a sympathetic smile and Jack with a look that did not promise anything good.

“Will,” Jack grunted.

“Jack.”

“Your somber stares could make babies cry,” Beverly said, and Will couldn’t help but grin a little. “Let’s get going.”

It felt like a funeral procession as they drove in police motorcar to the Verger Estate. There were a few other motorcars, owned by men and women who were rich enough and immoral enough to enjoy the acquaintance of the Mayor. On the drive Will ignored the small talk between Jack and Beverly to prepare himself to see Hannibal. Would he arrive as a man or would Verger demand that Hannibal present his wendigo form for the dramatic effect. The aesthetics of it would appeal to Hannibal, but at the same time Will knew that Hannibal didn’t consider his bestial visage to be anything to laud. Hannibal was a monster, and there was no denying that, but he was also a man. Being a wendigo was like having blonde hair, an intrinsic part of his existence that he neither relished nor despised. It simply was, and he never denied it. Even when he was not publically known Hannibal never denied his nature to himself. He enjoyed killing as any artist embraced their craft, and he never needed anyone to understand that until Will. 

Too many nights had been spent, pouring over all of the nuances of their relationship and every clue that Will had missed until it was too late. It had been too soon, and Will shouldn’t have discovered the truth until Hannibal wanted to reveal it to him, but life was never so kind. Instead it was as Hannibal prepared the meat for dinner, and from there is spiraled into an elaborate game of hide and seek with Will hiding his revelation in order to catch Hannibal slipping up so that he could arrest him. Then it was Hannibal who discovered the plot too soon, but he had given Will a chance. Run away with him and Abigail, back to the old world where he had a castle they could live in. It would be like a fairytale, with a princess, a witch, and a beast. Will had refused, determined to be a hunter rather than an agent of darkness, and so Hannibal cut open his stomach and slit the throat of their daughter. Somehow Jack had arrived in time to take Hannibal down, and from there the story stumbled to a conclusion; until now. Now there was a labyrinth.

Will rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t think like that. There was nothing more to add. Hannibal would become the beast at the center of the labyrinth, and Will would remain the city’s black sheep. 

Jack parked the motorcar in a dirt field along with some others, and then they made their way to labyrinth. There was a fair sized group of people, some judges and lawyers, doctors, and ladies bundled in furs. There was even the priest of the Grace Bible Evangelical Church. Will snorted to see that the priest, clutching his bible, stood right beside Mayor Verger. Was he going to be giving a blessing before or after Will official bound Hannibal to the labyrinth? Hopefully after.

Jack took Will up to the front of the crowd where Verger waited at the entrance of the labyrinth. Here was where Will’s test would begin. Already he could feel Hannibal, his energy overpowering everyone in attendance. It felt like a welcome. A dim tapping from the mind palace echoed through Will’s thoughts, and the magic from the circle surged as he approached. The two main pieces had arrived to complete its purpose. Without looking, Will knew that Hannibal stood off to the left, but he refused to look. Hannibal didn’t deserve even that. Will may have constructed this labyrinth for him, but that didn’t mean Will was bound to acknowledge him. All this was, was business, and soon Will could leave. Just one last spell, and then he would be gone. Even if he had to walk back to the city.

It didn’t take long for Mayor Verger to notice them, and when he did his canines gleamed beneath his smile as he held out a hand to Jack. “Sheriff Crawford!” Verger greeted. Jack’s face molded into an awkward smile as he shook Verger’s hand.

“Mayor.”

“You’ve brought our witch,” Verger purred. He dragged his eyes over Will, and it took all Will had to keep from bolting. “I’ve brought my own priest, just in case.”

“Probably best for us all,” Jack said, his tone flat. The priest has wormed his way close to them and gave Will hostile glare.

“The witch really isn’t necessary,” the priest says. “Our Lord Jesus will make sure that the beast stays put, and does Mayor Verger’s bidding.”

Verger ignored the priest, his eyes still on Will. “Crawford tells me you didn’t visit Hannibal once while preparing the labyrinth. Was that wise?” Verger asked.

“Seeing Hannibal wasn’t necessary,” Will said.

“It’s a shame, though, you two were so close,” Verger said.

“A necessity of monster hunting,” Will responded. He needed this to be over now. Hannibal was nearby and Verger and the priest were paying him too much attention. Skipping town once this was all done begun to sound more and more reasonable as the seconds ticked by.

“You’ll have to at least say hello today,” Verger said. “You are leading him to the center after all.”

Will face paled, and he turned to look at Jack who looked apologetic, but Will didn’t give a damn if he felt sorry. He was promised that he wouldn’t have to interact with Hannibal. Did Hannibal know as well? Was he already planning something; he must be for how could he not? From the glint of bloodlust that sparkled in Verger’s eyes, Will knew that he wasn’t expected to come out alive. He was to be Hannibal’s first meal, and yet the initial urge to run and scream drained from him the moment it surged. 

“I wasn’t informed of any such arrangement.”

“I thought of it last minute, but you have to agree that it makes sense,” Verger said. “You did create the labyrinth, and I need someone to be able to lead my men out after depositing Lecter.”

Will finally allowed himself to glance over where Hannibal stood. He appeared as a normal man.

“Disappointing, isn’t it,” Verger said. “He refused to show his true nature.”

“The beast cannot fool me with his human mask,” the priest vowed, but their words held no meaning to Will.

Hannibal wasn’t looking at him. Surrounded by three burly men and Verger’s stony-faced sister, Hannibal was gazing at the crowd with a faint upturn at the corner of his lips. The bastard was smirking. Will took a deep breath and looked away. It suited him just fine to not have Hannibal’s attention. That made his job here easier, except now Will was going to have to venture into the labyrinth with Hannibal.

“Shall we begin,” Verger said with a wink, and then turned to his audience.

The entire ceremony was mute to Will. All he could do it stare out at the distance where the buildings of the city loomed. Would this be his last time glimpsing those buildings? The city that he had lived in since his father settled down here over two decades ago. He had been subject to so much hate and morbid curiosity, and it was here that he had almost had a family. Where he had fallen in love. Now he was to be sent to guide the beast that he had loved into a labyrinth he constructed to hold him. 

Will didn’t realize it was time for him to complete the binding spell until Jack had to practically stomp on his foot. Will didn’t even glare, simply closed his eyes and let himself sink back into the familiarity of his magic. There was no surprise when he found Hannibal’s energy waiting for him, more potent that it had been when he first lay down the circle. What did surprise him, was that the dark energy that nuzzled him as he bound it to the circle did not resist and nor did it attempt to pull him further into himself. It was an invitation rather than a demand. Will could hear his voice shake as Hannibal’s energy slid across his being, reminding him what it was like to be together. That was all Hannibal did, though. Will was allowed to open his eyes and remove himself from the magic easily, and it unnerved him. Hannibal must be waiting to sink his teeth into him once they were safely tucked away in the labyrinth. No one would be shocked, or even that concerned if Will didn’t return. 

The crowd cheered, and suddenly Hannibal was beside Will. Verger was making some ridiculous speech about Jesus and overpowering the devil’s beast to be used for good. It was all background noise because Hannibal was finally looking at Will.

Hannibal had aged since they had last seen one another. His face was gaunt, and the fine suit he had been given to wear hung slight from his frame where muscle had deteriorated. Despite all of this, he was still handsome and his maroon eyes still gleamed with hunger and amusement as he stared Will straight on. His gaze roamed, and for Will it was physical. His throat tingled, his nipples tightened, and when Hannibal’s eyes rested upon Will’s abdomen his gaze became possessive. 

“Will,” Jack hissed.

Will tore his gaze from Hannibal to see Jack presenting him with the chain connected to Hannibal’s shackles.

“Come out of there, Will,” Jack said. Will gave a nod, but they both knew it was futile, and so Will turned away. With two of Verger’s men flanking them, Hannibal and Will walked into the labyrinth, together.

The noise of the audience and ceremony behind them was immediately silenced once they entered the labyrinth. The fog that had been creeping from the forest into the field appeared to completely engulf the pathways, and Will could feel Hannibal’s energy slink all throughout the maze. 

“Move it, Satan bitch,” one of Verger’s men grunted. These men were clearly uncomfortable, as they should be. From behind him, Will could feel a shift in Hannibal. Perhaps it was the insult, Hannibal had never been able to abide the rude, or maybe it was finally having an increment of freedom, but either way Hannibal was beginning to transform. Will could feel the scar on his abdomen. They needed to deliver him to the center, and fast if any of them wanted to live. Being in here was dangerous, this was a domain where Hannibal had almost full control, just as Will intended. Here Hannibal’s energy was lord and master. Will’s own magic was strong, as well, but he could feel his resolve grow weak as Hannibal’s energy wound around him as they walked.

Will did not remember the path to the center of the labyrinth, but he could feel his magic tugging him in the correct path as though it were a string he had tied previously to keep from becoming lost. Behind him Hannibal’s presence continue to grow as wind whispered through the leaves. Verger’s men continued to talk loudly and with insults for both Will and Hannibal as though their bravado were enough to keep them safe. If anyone was a perfect first meal for Hannibal, it would be them.

No, Will chastised himself. He could not think like that. No one deserved to be devoured, but someone had to fill the beast’s belly. They hadn’t sent in any criminals to grace Hannibal’s table.

The urge to glance behind and take in Hannibal was tempting. Already his gaze bore into Will, heating his body despite the chill of the labyrinth. The anxiety from the two men grew, and suddenly Hannibal was pushed into Will.

“Keep moving,” one of the men spat.

Such rudeness, Will thought, except it wasn’t him. The voice was deeper, and tickled his ears like a lover’s teasing tongue. Will swatted at his ears, but it was only his curls damp, and coiled around his ears. 

They’re people, Will told himself.

They are no better than swine. 

Will slowly turned around.

“What the hell are you doing?” the Verger man growled. “I said move!”

Hannibal was smiling at him, and his eyes were completely engulfed in black. The wendigo and the man were before him, waiting. Will could run now. He would be condemning the men behind them, but he at least might come out alive. However, it’s already too late. It was too late the moment he let Jack force him into constructing the magical core of this labyrinth. Now his and Hannibal’s energy pulsated around them, merged and stronger for it. 

Will finally meet Hannibal’s gaze.

“We said move!” 

The bigger of the two Verger men raised a baton, his aim for Hannibal’s head. Before it struck, so quick it was a blur, Hannibal grabs the man’s wrist. His nails elongated, and blood flowed onto those blackened claws. Hannibal’s line of sight was still completely focused on Will, and it’s intoxicating. Will was reflected, he was lost in those depthless eyes.

“You have to want to,” Hannibal said. His words are like a stroke across Will’s skin. The swears from the men who accompany them is dull against the particles of breath, the sizzle of energy that pass between him and Hannibal. Will had run for so long from the secret he buried the night Hannibal was arrested. It was the secret that kept Abigail haunting his apartment. It was the reason he so easily took control of Hannibal’s energy, and the reason he created this labyrinth for him out of the composition of their very selves.

Will closed his eyes. Hannibal’s energy flowed into him through every orifice, filling him and fusing with him. If he ran, Hannibal would let him go, but he could never return. There was only one choice to make.

When Will opened his eyes Hannibal had both men gripped in his claws, and both of them begged Will to save them. Will reached out, and his hands slid up the fabric covering Hannibal’s arms. He stepped close as his fingers reach Hannibal’s exposed wrist, gliding over the warm and unnaturally smooth skin. Soon Will’s fingers are splayed over those claws, and his body is pressed against Hannibal’s body. It’s been too long, but ever since discovering what Hannibal is Will knew he couldn’t have Hannibal. It wasn’t right, and so he had acted accordingly. Now, though, in the labyrinth everything was different. Here he could have Hannibal.

“I want you,” Will whispered.

In the blink of an eye Hannibal fully transformed, the suit tearing to accommodate the large proportions, and ripped into his prey. The wendigo dropped the dead men at Will’s feet as blood sluiced down his nightmarish skin. Antlers protruded from the head, and he stood tall and proud. Claws reached out and sliced through the buttons of Will’s shirt until it hung open. The air grew hot, and the chill from before completely vanished. They’re both ensnared in one another’s gaze. Hannibal’s stare burned, and fueled Will’s own. Hannibal’s claws trail from Will’s collarbone down to the abdomen scar, and pressed down as the tip of the claw traced it. Will winced, but Hannibal crowded close and he kisses him. A claw slipped past the scar tissue and into Will’s insides as Hannibal’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Tears formed at the corner of Will’s eyes, and Hannibal pulled back and licked them away. 

“My dear Will,” Hannibal said.

Will smiled and rest his hand over the claws inside of him. “Welcome home, Hannibal.” And it is home because there can be no escape from their labyrinth, now.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this fic is awkward. It was quite a ride writing this.


End file.
